


Flung out of Orbit

by parttimefemmefatale (writingramblr)



Series: Regency Romance [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU where 11 and Clara are siblings, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Pete and Jackie are mentioned, Regency Romance, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 03:26:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2051823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/parttimefemmefatale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Tyler is the heiress to the Vitex empire, and she's only weeks away from coming into the control of her family's finances. </p><p>She has no time to mess about, nor the patience to worry about courtship.</p><p>However, when she receives a unique visitor to the Tyler Estate, any and all plans take a backseat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the beginning of the end folks. If someone had said to me, you must make this Regency AU 30k words or else, i would have said hell nah. But thus, it has become that. Know that this story is so much more than the summary, but i don't wish to spoil anything too soon.  
> ignore my butchering of the class system, Lord and Lady (first name, sometimes last name, etc)
> 
> to see the thing that inspired it all, click and follow this link.
> 
> [http://timeladyspacepirateutteroutcast.tumblr.com/post/91902057460/ ]

The crackling noise of the newspaper being folded and crumpled up was one that was familiar to Martha Jones’ ears.

She’d grown up on the Tyler Estate, brought there with her family as a young girl, introduced to Rose Tyler, her future lady who she’d be working for, and the two had formed an unusual friendship.

Rose, for her part, had been much too young to understand the clever dark haired, dark eyed, and dark skinned girl would soon be fetching her clothing, cooking her breakfast, and generally cleaning the large home the Tyler's resided in.

She had thought the Jones’ were to be a second family to share her home with. In a way, she was right. The Tyler’s never discouraged Rose from spending time with the servants, and indeed, she often found herself helping prepare dinner or attempting to aid in the laundry duties until her tutors arrived mid-morning.

When the unthinkable occurred, a carriage accident that claimed the life of Lord Peter and Lady Jacqueline Tyler, including the unnamed unborn sibling who’d dreamed inside the Lady of the Estate’s belly, Rose Tyler had been left orphaned. Now the only heir to the Vitex fortune, she was left to grow up surrounded by servants and on an estate she knew nothing about.

She had not been a businesswoman, but overnight, or almost, within six months, the young Tyler girl had absorbed all responsibilities.

She’d seen her father working on his bookkeeping often enough, and had remembered so much more than anyone could have dreamt.

Though she couldn’t truly inherit until her twenty-five birthday, a date fast approaching now, she still oversaw and maintained the Estate.

Martha swept into her Lady’s room, and beamed, hoping to cheer up the clearly grumpy heiress.

“Now then, here’s your coffee and a bit of toast. I buttered it twice, just as you like. Anything interesting in the news?”

She set the breakfast tray on Rose’s side table, and the blonde in question sighed heavily, before rolling her eyes at Martha.

“No. There never is. Otherwise I would keep the paper for more than just kindling.”

Martha nodded understandingly, and carefully tidied up the paper, despite all the wrinkles and slight rips in the print.

Rose waved her hand about, as if trying to dismiss a fly,

“Don’t bother. I can do that. I’m not helpless. I can order another paper, a new one, if you’d like to read it.”

Martha shook her head,

“Not to worry Miss Rose. I trust your judgment. The moment there’s anything of purpose to read, I will find myself a crisp and flat paper.”

Rose sipped at her coffee, and nibbled at her toast, eyes staring but seeing nothing,

“I live for that day Martha. When the men of science discover a new world, a new star, or the day Halley’s comet comes into orbit. That’s what I want to read about.”

Martha tidied up the rest of the room, which only meant straightening Rose’s discarded shoes, and restacking a couple novels that hadn’t been returned to their shelves.

“What gossip is there? Anything particularly scandalous?”

Martha bit back a smile. Her Lady was always the first to know the word about her neighbors, and that morning, she was just as eager as ever.

“I’ve only heard that the young master of the Smith Estate, our neighbor across the lake has returned home from university. How long he will be staying is anyone’s guess.”

Rose hummed thoughtfully around the crust of her toast,

“When’s the next ball of the season? I lose track so easily.”

Martha did laugh at that, before coughing in a failed effort to hide it. Rose’s eyes crinkled and her mouth twitched, but she did not smile.

“Four days hence. It will be at the Noble estate. Lady Donna is most excited to be hosting the dinner and dance.”

Rose finally relaxed a bit, and nodded,

“Wonderful. I will be delighted to attend. You may send my response to Lady Donna. I should not have kept her waiting so long.”

Martha nodded,

“Of course miss Rose.” She remained silent afterwards, and her Lady knew the truth. She’d sent a reply nearly a week before. Of course Rose Tyler would be attending. Anything less would have been the ultimate cut.

“Now please go polish my telescope, and I’ll see to dressing myself.”

Martha would have protested, but the weariness in her Lady’s tone spoke volumes. Polishing her telescope was something Lady Rose only did herself. Being told this was the most polite way to be dismissed from her presence. Martha knew it meant she could now visit the gardens, or the library, until she was called for.

Rose was far from a delicate flower, she liked to insist she could do everything the Estate required, but she only kept the servants because she liked company.

Martha had known her nearly all her adolescent life, and all of her adult life, and Lady Rose was as independent as could be. Martha liked to think if things had been different, if they’d both been of the same class, or their roles had been switched, their relationship would not have changed a single bit.

***

Rose Tyler wasn’t very enthused about her upcoming birthday; despite the fact it meant she could finally access her family’s fortune. Well, _her_ fortune. She did her hair up in front of her vanity as she watched the last dregs of her coffee grow cold. Since she refused to follow the styles in general, of ladies styles, her clumsy braid and bun was sure to be the talk of the season. Not that she cared. Having bangs was almost enough to make up for that, but since she didn’t curl them with hot tongs, they were rather flyaway.

She refused to allow a hot iron anywhere near her face. How other ladies tolerated it, she’d never understand. Hot irons were to warm beds and neaten fabric. Not for hair styling.

She didn’t bother to tell Martha when she dressed and left for a walk around the lake. She did it nearly twice a week, and the servants knew better than to warn her against it.

If her mother had been living, she’d have insisted Rose wear a scarf to keep her neck warm, or she’d catch her death of cold. She’d insist on boots and not her nice shoes, to keep the mud from ruining the leather.

“But mother, I’m not going _into_ the lake, merely around it.”

She mumbled the words to herself, as she breathed deeply the fresh morning air, still heavy with damp. The grass was wet with dew, and Rose didn’t care when it soaked the bottom of her dress. It was dirt brown colored for a reason.

Usually she would challenge herself to find the moon in the still dim morning sky, but today, she didn’t care to. She was distracted by her own thoughts.

When she turned twenty-five, she’d be rich, and she’d also be only a handful of years from becoming a spinster. So labeled by the Ton, but still condemnation.

Since the accident, Rose had been overly cautious, not just of herself, or her heart, but of strangers, outsiders in general.

She never had visitors on the Estate, and when attending a ball, she only danced the first three dances, before retiring to the library, until dinner was announced.

She knew it gave her an air of mystery, according to the gentlemen, and gave her an air of snobbery, according to the ladies, the few who remained jealous of her so called tragic story.

She didn’t need their paper thin masks of pity, and simpering smiles. She knew what she was, and she had lived with it for over a decade.

Losing one’s parents was a naturally occurring event, it just happened hers had left much sooner than she’d wanted. She brushed off comments and condolences, and whenever someone mentioned how she ought to be getting married soon, she laughed in their face.

In her mind at least.

Outwardly, a typical pained smile and nod was accompanied by a hasty sip of wine or champagne followed by a mumbled “Excuse me.”

Rose Tyler had no time for men.

She’d die old and alone happily, if it weren’t for the fact that her servants would someday leave her, for their own life.

She was excited and happy for Martha. She knew her friend, although only her lady maid, was in truth so much more than she seemed. Rose had discovered an entire shelf of medical journals that she knew had not been there before, and when she mentioned it, Martha’s cheeks had flushed, before she’d confessed they were hers.

Rose had thrown all propriety out the window and hugged her tightly.

Her lady maid wanted to be a doctor, and Rose could see no obstacle in her way. Well, nothing that money couldn’t fix. That was the only reason she kept Martha on.

She could do the basics, chores and the like, even cooking…well, perhaps not, but most things perfectly. She just wanted to ensure her servants, who she wished she could call friends, had a savings account to keep them well, and help them seek other employment if they desired, once Rose married.

A smile graced her lips as her face turned towards the rising sun, its warmth soft on her face. Martha Jones would be a wonderful physician. Her kindness and patience, and endless compassion would serve her well.

Heavy thumps could be felt on the ground, and Rose frowned, looking away from the horizon to see if it was a horse.

A loud bark echoed over the lake, and Rose nearly jumped a foot in the air as she realized it was an enormous dog approaching her, not a horse.

“Oh my…”

It came bounding up to her and she barely had time to think, much less call for help before it was upon her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please, please, please don't leave me hate for making Martha a servant. She's grown up beside Rose and they consider each other much more like sisters than a lady and her maid. i know it wasn't very creative of me, but i promise that she won't be one forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we meet Eleven, and he's of the mind that rejects being stuffy and titled...sounds like a certain Doctor no?

“Sir John Smith, I like the sound of that. Much less stuffy than ‘Lord.’” A young gentleman with perpetually messy brown hair and bright green eyes stood in front of a mirror, adjusting the angle of his bowtie, and attempting to smooth any wrinkles from his shirtwaist.

“What do you say Jack? Just because one is of a certain status doesn’t mean one needs to be a frumpy old sod.”

He whirled around, abandoning his reflection and finding the room behind him empty. His dark haired companion was gone. John sniffed the air, and beamed,

“Breakfast…ah, so that’s what’s taken you from my side old friend. Of course. How could I blame you?”

The few footmen and butlers he passed on the way down the stairs towards the kitchen paid no mind to their Lord speaking aloud to himself. He did it often. His parents had labeled it a side effect of the vapors he’d absorbed the year he’d caught pneumonia and nearly died at the tender age of three.

He’d been a pale and sickly child, but once overcoming the lung disease, he’d sprouted like a weed, and taken to running about outdoors, thus gaining a healthy tan and overall better stamina.

The boy who grew weary from climbing a flight of stairs had begun to climb every tree he came upon, without fear or worry for breath.

As if he’d sprouted an extra set of lungs, John Smith had been reborn.

“Good morning mother, father, sister.”

He kissed the cheek of both ladies before placing a hand on his father’s shoulder as he slipped around the kitchen table to snag the plate of still steaming eggs, bacon and toast.

“John, where on earth have you been? Your hair looks a fright.”

His mother, Idris, a lovely woman with grey streaked brown hair and soft blue eyes intoned the second he sat down, and John would have fussed with it some more, but he didn’t wish to be scolded for touching his hair at the table.

His sister, Clara, a younger version of their mother, with long brown waves, and wide brown eyes, and a round face that lit up like a sunrise when she smiled merely shrugged,

“Probably holed up in the library reading, and fell asleep with a book for a pillow. That’s why your head’s misshapen is it not?”

John shot a glare towards her, but then, she’d always loved to antagonize him. Their father, John Sr. chuckled and waved his hands about, perhaps hoping for silence.

“Children please. It’s much too early for arguing. Let’s enjoy this feast we have before us, and let your mother say grace.”

Clara and John both winced at being referred to as children, for she was set to debut at the next ball, taking place at the Noble residence, and he was well on his way through his final year at university.

“It’s just so fantastic to have John home. I’ve missed him so.”

Brown eyes full of mischief sparkled at John, and he fought the urge to roll his own, but both their parents bought it as the reason for such early conflict.

Without a rush or hurry, John finished his breakfast and escaped the kitchen before talk turned to after his classes and his future.

Halfway out the door to the path to the lake, a servant snagged his sleeve.

He turned to them with a grin, finding his favorite old butler, a grey haired man he affectionately called Yana.

“Sir, you might like to know that _Jack_ left just a few moments ago, out this same door. Perhaps in search of a feline to hunt? Either way, he was in a bit of a rush.”

John grimaced.

“Oh dear. Well thank you for telling me Yana. I promise I will find him before he causes too much trouble.”

“Very good sir.”

John strolled none too casually out to the lakeside, and began to whistle for his companion.

When that didn’t work, he began to call out.

“Jack! Jack? Jack I saved you some bacon, if you come back right away!”

It was a white lie, for the bacon had been gone nearly as soon as it had finished cooking, but Jack would have eaten already, and wouldn’t be the wiser.

Unfortunately it seemed the large canine had found something of interest that he wouldn’t be distracted from.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, and returned to the house, much slower than he’d left it.

However, arriving inside he found a flurry of activity. Clara was first to reach him, and she yanked his arm so hard he swore it might have come loose from his shoulder if he’d not known better.

“JOHN! It’s your pet! He’s wandered over to the Tyler Estate!”

His eyebrows, which he’d always thought rather none existent lifted so high they might have vanished into his bangs.

“What? Jack’s run across the lake?”

He resented the way his sister had reduced Jack to just a pet, when he considered him so much more than that, but of course, in the last year, she’d been the one caring for him.

“How do you know?”

Clara sighed and rolled her eyes at him,

“The estate sent over a message you daft numpty.”

John grinned at her, ignoring the insult,

“Well then! Let’s go get him back.”

Clara’s hands rose up and pressed him backwards, from where he’d been headed directly for the door.

“We’ve got to inform mother and father, and then prepare a carriage. And I’m going with you, no arguing! I’ve always wanted to meet Lady Tyler…the Vitex Heiress, the golden Lady they call her. There’s not been any visitors allowed to her estate in years. Just think, we’ll be her first visitors of the season!”

John bit his tongue, holding back the reply that threatened to escape. ‘Maybe she’s not had visitors because she likes being left alone, and dislikes nosy neighbors?’

Clara ran off muttering about what she wanted to wear, and John was left standing in the foyer staring wearily at the front door.


	3. Chapter 3

Rose had recovered quite easily from the attack of the slobber monster, and had dissolved, not from the spit, but into a giggly mess.

Her hair was finished, and her bangs a damp cluster of blonde against her forehead, and surely her dress was coated in grass and dirt, but she was delighted to have been given such a warm welcome to the lake by its apparent resident.

“Hello there. Where did you come from? Oh dear, you look hungry. Have you eaten yet?”

Rose knew very well the big black dog could not answer her, but she liked to pretend she saw a gleam of understanding in the creature’s eyes.

“Come with me. Let’s get you some bacon yeah?”

With no collar to lead it by, she simply waved her fingers at the dog, and it followed quite eagerly. Rose beamed at it and took off at a run back to the estate.

She went in the back entrance, and stomped off as much mud as she could, whistling at the dog to ensure it halted as well. Luckily, fortune favored her, and the black canine stayed by her side, not tracking a single dirty paw print on the newly clean tile floor of the manor.

“Martha!”

She called out swiftly, and her Lady maid appeared almost at once. Rose grinned,

“That was quick!”

“Well I’ve been worried. You were gone before you could read the mail, and usually you don’t crumple up letters…and…oh my, who’s this?”

Rose watched as her friend melted and knelt before the dog, scratching at ears and not recoiling an inch when the same tongue that had thoroughly scrubbed her face kissed at the white collar of her uniform.

“I found him down by the lake. I reckon he’s one of our neighbors.”

Martha pulled away with a gasp.

“Yes!”

Rose cocked a brow at her,

“You know of his owners?”

Martha nodded,

“I believe he’s the Smith Estate’s pet. John, junior of course, had been rumored to own the largest canine in the county.”

Rose giggled,

“Well then. Have someone send them a missive, and tell them their dog is in good hands until he can be retrieved.”

Martha nodded,

“Good thing the boy’s back in town. But I wonder what caused his pet to run away?”

Rose shrugged,

“Maybe he simply got ahead of his owner, and we’ll have a guest come barging through the back door any moment.”

Together they peered out towards the lake, but saw nothing illuminated by the morning sunshine.

“Perhaps not.”

“I’ll send Mickey over with the news right away.”

Rose smiled,

“Fantastic. Our new friend here will be with me, once we’re cleaned off a bit, out in the conservatory. I think I’ve had enough adventure for one morning. Another cup of coffee would be lovely, once all is settled.”

Martha nodded, and got to her feet, heading off to find Mickey, the butler that Rose knew she had a soft spot for.

Rose clucked her tongue at the dog, and he looked up at her, wagging his own long pink tongue in reply.

“I did promise bacon did I not? Hold still and let’s wash off those paws.”

 

Once the dog’s coat had been returned to pitch black, from the dark mud brown it had been, Rose left his side for a only a moment, long enough to freshen up and change her dress. If she was to entertain guests, she needed to look the part of the Vitex Heiress.

By the time she had settled in with a book and the dog had slipped to the floor, prostrate at her feet, Martha had bustled in with a fresh pot of coffee, and news that Mickey had made contact with the Smiths.

“The two children will be over soon.”

Rose bit back a laugh,

“How on earth did Mickey get here in time to tell me this? Were the Smiths not right behind him?”

Martha shook her head,

“They had some arrangements to make, including transport that would hold the dog.”

Martha glanced at the relaxed canine, and Rose saw the hint of a smile playing about the woman’s lips.

“Indeed? So it seems you won’t be walking home my friend.”

Rose murmured to the dog, whose ears pricked up, despite no name being mentioned. That bothered Rose.

“You should have a name. A wonderful one. Martha, did they mention a name?”

Martha shook her head, and Rose frowned briefly,

“Oh well. I think Wolf is good for now. What do you say Wolf?”

The dog, which looked nothing like a wolf, seemed not to mind the new moniker, and resumed wagging his tail at them happily.

Rose quirked a brow and smirked at Martha,

“It seems he is flexible with his address. Please escort our guests in as soon as they arrive.”

Martha nodded, and with a swirl of her skirts, was gone.

Rose looked down at the dog dubbed Wolf, and then turned her attention back to her book.

“Looks like it’s just you and me.”

***

John was nearly jumping out of his skin with worry, and Clara was forced to grip his arm to prevent him from leaping from the carriage before it had come to a suitable stop in front of the Tyler manor.

“John!” She hissed loudly, and he sat back down, albeit still prepared to move quickly.

“We will wait until we are announced properly!”

John frowned at her, but allowed her to exit the carriage first, and then waited until the footman had knocked on the front door.

The large wooden door creaked open, and a familiar face greeted them. It was the man who had delivered the message.

“Hello Sir Smith, Miss Smith, please, come in. Lady Tyler is waiting for you.”

Clara squeezed John’s hand so hard he thought he might lose feeling in his fingers as they traveled the halls, following the dark skinned man.

They stopped just in the doorway of a large well lit room, and John spared a few moments to look around at what the man had announced as the Conservatory. It was a large room with a glass ceiling, letting in as much light as possible, and making the contents of the room glow as a result. A small table graced with two chairs was across from them, and a steaming china cup sat beside a golden haired woman.

She had been reading intently, but at the sound of footsteps looked up, and John felt as if his heart had stopped. Certainly all air had vacated his lungs. It was as if he’d been transformed into his childhood self. He fought for every breath.

The servant announced them, and said,

“Lady Rose Tyler, your guests.”

Before he turned on his shiny black heels and left the trio alone.

Well, not quite alone. There was a large black blob at the Lady’s feet, and when John blinked, his eyes focused and he exclaimed,

“JACK!” Without thinking.


	4. Chapter 4

The china rattled as Lady Rose set her book down on the tabletop, and she smiled, and perhaps the heavens parted and angels sang, John couldn’t be sure.

Jack leapt to his paws and bounded towards him, and John was distracted enough to draw breath once again.

Clara moved forward, elegant as always,

“Lady Rose, it is such an honor to meet you. You have a lovely home.”

The golden haired woman, Rose, took Clara’s hand and shook it gently,

“Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you Clara. May I call you Clara? Formalities are so bothersome. Please call me Rose. And this must be your brother John? I’m sorry for taking away…Jack is it? For so long. I ran into him, quite literally, during my morning walk by the lake today. He followed me home, and I knew I had to find his owner.”

John untangled himself from Jack and straightened his jacket, fingers fumbling at his bowtie, in vain attempting to look unflappable.

“Lady Rose, thank you so much for taking such good care of him. I’ve only been home a couple days, he must have become used to exploring on his own.”

A glare was shot towards Clara, one that Rose didn’t bother to question, and then John had taken Rose’s hand in his, and was pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. It felt as if he was letting fire touch his lips, so warm was her skin beneath his, or was that all in his head?

He heard Clara clear her throat, and he realized his hands must surely smell of Jack’s fur, and he withdrew them immediately, horrified, but Rose didn’t appear bothered.

“Of course. I’ve always dreamt of having a companion of my own someday, whether one with fur or feathers. I hope he, or she, is as wonderful as Jack.”

John’s eyes widened, but they were nothing like the saucers that were Clara’s.

“What?”

The word escaped his sister’s mouth before she could stop it, and Rose blushed prettily,

“Well, it’s strange to think of them as pets, you know? They’re always there for you, at your side, always willing to listen, to follow you anywhere, they’re like the best sort of friend. Selfless, almost.”

Clara’s eyes narrowed,

“They’re beasts. They have no mind of their own, of course they’re selfless.”

John shot her a warning glance, but she missed it this time.

Rose lifted from her chair, and though she was still shorter than them both, her personality was greater than her stature.

Clara shrunk visibly,

“They’re the only companions some people have Miss Smith, I hope you do not also consider your servants as mindless beasts, only living to do your bidding?”

John secretly thrilled at the way Clara mumbled no and apologized. He’d always hated when she’d glowered at Jack, or even pushed him aside if he ever dared cross her path.

The dim mood cleared almost instantly when Jack nosed at Rose’s hand, with a doubtless cold snout, and she giggled.

She fell to her knees and pulled the dog into an embrace.

“Goodbye Jack. Thank you for an exciting morning.”

John watched in astonishment as Jack nuzzled her neck and she merely laughed in reply, and were those tears in her eyes?

They were.

She had brown eyes, but they were so light they could almost be hazel, but for the tears that now glistened in them. Sunlight through whiskey. That’s what they reminded him of.

In the light from the ceiling, she looked like an angel holding a black bear.

“Come Jack. We’re going.”

Clara’s voice was harsh, almost a bite, and all the propriety in the world would not have disguised the fact that she was eager to leave as John was to stay.

He watched them both go, and reluctantly made to follow, but Rose made him stop with only a word.

“Wait.”

John turned back, and fought the urge to beam at her like a lovesick schoolboy.

“Yes Rose?”

It felt wrong to say just her name, without the title, but she had insisted.

“Will you be attending the Noble’s…party?”

John ducked his head and knew that nothing could hide the flare of heat in his cheeks.

“Ah, yes. It’s Clara’s first event. Her debut. She’s very excited.” His hands made faux quotation marks in the air as he spoke, and he saw Rose’s lips twitch towards a smile.

Rose nodded,

“I’m sure she is. She’s a beautiful girl. I bet her dance card will be full to bursting.”

John winced,

“I’m sorry for the way she acted. She’s gotten a bit of a big head while I’ve been gone. Practicing for being a Lady of the house. Of her own house.”

Rose waved a hand about,

“It’s perfectly fine. I was probably a bit overly critical. I just, I’m not used to having guests, can you tell?”

She laughed nervously, and John felt himself relax a bit. Despite how perfectly wonderful she seemed, even perfection had its flaws.

“But yes. We will be there. Will you?”

Rose sighed, and he almost swore he saw something like regret flash over her face.

“Yes. Of course. The Noble’s are one of the few families I…” she broke off. John rung his hands together, and an awkward silence fell. It was none of his business, about anything related to her, but he didn’t care. He wanted to know it all. What made her laugh, besides Jack, what she thought about late at night, what she liked to do on rainy days…what her hair looked like when not in a perfect coiffure… Rose had coughed, and spoken, and he’d missed it, absorbed in his inane thoughts.

“I’m sorry?”

Rose smiled,

“I only asked if you would mind saving a dance for me. I don’t usually like to do many, but if you get there early enough, the first could be yours.”

John’s eyes widened, and surely he was dreaming?

Rose Tyler was asking him to save her a dance?

_Rose Tyler was asking him to save her a dance._

He nodded so quickly his vision blurred.

Rose was still smiling when he stopped,

“Lovely. Well, then, Sir Smith, I will see you next week. It was a pleasure to meet you, and please give Jack my best.”

A sly wink, and a quirk of her full pink lips and he was gone, walking out the front door in a daze.

When Clara shrieked at him, asking what had taken so long, he didn’t even bother to answer. He didn’t care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clara. sigh. this story is not going to be about her, so she is a bit annoying. after Asylum of the Daleks, that's how I saw her...annoying. Cute, but annoying.


	5. Chapter 5

Rose slipped into her chair with a loud sigh. Her hands worked automatically, adjusting and shifting the telescope to the clearest spot in the sky, while the other bits of the star filled night twinkled at her like the contents of her mother’s jewelry box.

“What a day.”

She murmured aloud as she looked through the glass finally. She loved coming up to the observatory, to be alone with her thoughts. It was her only escape from the doldrums of daily life, besides the library.

However, the morning had gone spectacularly different than she could have dreamt. She’d met an intriguing pair of neighbors, and secured a specific dance partner for the fete at the Noble’s.

The familiar constellation that resembled a large stove pot greeted her, and she smiled. This thought led to her wondering what sort of food would be served at the party, and if she would mind being sat beside John Smith. It certainly wouldn’t be any worse than being seated beside Christopher Noble again.

The last party she’d attended there she’d escaped all of the dances, and then found herself chatting with the hostess herself, Donna Noble. She was a lively red haired woman who never stuck completely to propriety. Rose loved that about her.

However, the woman did not have a knack for seating arrangements. There were not two quieter people in the county than Donna’s elder brother and Rose. The man had been through a war, and as a result, no one had wanted to bother him with impertinent questions, so they’d left him alone. All the Ton knew was that he’d had to kill many men, and it had changed him. He didn’t like to speak about it, and he’d always been a bit shy, even as a child.

Rose was not completely the opposite, nor was she always quiet and content, but at parties she always seemed to clam up. She stuck by the saying, ‘If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.’ Donna was the only person she felt comfortable exchanging gossip with, besides Martha, and so she remained silent as the grave anywhere else at a party.

She shifted in her chair, straightened her neck, and resumed her studying of the night sky. It always gave her interesting dreams to consider. Traveling the world would be nice, but she preferred to dream bigger. Traveling the sky, discovering worlds made of air, or just water, as opposed to both. Maybe even finding a way to study the planet of fire that warmed the world humanity called home.

Rose knew they were flights of fancy, but she didn’t care. She wanted to be more than just the poor orphaned Vitex Heiress.

***

Too soon, far too soon, it was the night of the party. John dreaded it, despite the fact it would mean seeing Rose Tyler again. For the last few days, the house had been a flurry of activity preparing Clara for her debut.

He and Jack had managed to stay mostly out of the way, and even the line of fire directed at anyone or anything that distracted Clara from her studies.

He didn’t care that he’d never managed just how to properly dine, or why there were so many ways one could discuss the same boring things, weather, fashion, and never ever politics.

By the time Clara was ready to depart for the Noble’s estate, the clock was showing they would be thirty minutes late.

The rest of the Smith’s might not have had a timetable, but John did.

He wanted to ensure he could have a dance with Rose before she vanished, as she always did, apparently, before dinner.

He knew he shouldn’t have listened to his mother and Clara gossiping in the study the other day, but he couldn’t help it, sometimes he was just in the wrong place at the right time.

They’d been talking about all the other women and girls who would be at the party, and Rose’s name had come up just seconds before he’d been preparing to vacate the area.

Clara had only spoken of their visit to the Tyler estate in glowing terms before, but now, no punches were pulled.

She called Rose a hermit, and suggested that she only showed her face at parties to keep the Tyler family name in circulation.

John was fully prepared to resort to violence, or the threat of, when he heard his mother rebuke Clara. He sighed in relief, and listened as she explained what had happened, or what she knew of from Donna Noble herself.

Rose Tyler had been orphaned and left in that enormous home all alone. The money and wealth was of no use to her for another month or so, and she was perhaps a hermit, but an intelligent one, and not a woman to be disrespected.

John felt his heart ache for her. She was so alone, besides the servants who scuttled around her every day, no wonder she’d taken to Jack so well.

She’d called him a companion, just as John always thought of him.

The revelation that she was actually a handful of years older than he’d thought held no bearing. She was a woman who’d been denied a chance at childhood when she’d been forced to grow up prematurely. Somewhere inside was that little girl who’d lost her parents too soon. Jack had definitely revealed her more tender side. Not that she was stuck up or snobbish, only ladies like his sister seemed to believe that.

He hoped with the words of their mother that Clara would now act at least a bit nicer. He prayed that Rose would still be in the ballroom, and that she would have patience with him.

The carriage lurched to a stop before he knew it, so distracted and absorbed in his thoughts had he been, and he fought the urge to leap out, as usual.

Clara entered the manor first, on her father’s arm, and John followed closely behind with his mother.

“You look nice this evening John; did you do something different with your hair?”

His mother whispered to him, and squeezed his arm as they crossed the threshold, and the music swept over them.

He grinned at her and shrugged,

“Just parted it on the other side.”

She patted his arm and let go of him,

“Wonderful. See you at dinner.”

She left his side and made her way over to a red haired woman who was speaking animatedly with a cluster of people. John knew her to be Donna Noble, the hostess of the magnificent gathering. He’d never met her in person, but he knew all about her. Her personality was as fiery as her hair.

But right then, John only cared to look for one woman, and she had hair like spun gold.

The lamps and lights scattered about the room made for an ideal setting, but John was having trouble spotting Rose. Of course, she was shorter than most, and perhaps had shunned heels in favor of sensible footwear.

His worries were set to rest an instant later when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He spun around to find Rose Tyler watching him with a hesitant smile, and he grinned so wide his cheeks hurt.

“Hello!”

“Good evening Sir Smith. I trust you are faring well this night?”

The elegant words twisted a knife into his gut as he drank her appearance in. He was well, but now knowing what he did about her, he could no longer see the stranger, the odd ethereal blonde who had been ambushed by his dog.

She was so much more than that.

She wore a gown of green silk, which only made her hair shine brighter, and her eyes still looked as haunted as they had been before they’d parted a week earlier.

She frowned at him, asking if he was feeling quite well, and he realized he’d neglected to reply.

“Yes. Thank you. May I have this dance?”

She curtsied, and he bowed in return, before extending his hand, as she smiled,

“Yes.”


	6. Chapter 6

Rose had arrived obscenely early, in an effort to hunt Donna down and wrestle the seating chart from her to deduce who she would be delegated to dine with.

When she’d been questioned, Donna had jumped to conclusions, and guessed Rose had a new paramour, and someone she actually desired to sit with.

Rose pretended to deny it, but she couldn’t fight the urge to confess.

“Yes. Alright. I met this man, and I’d like to be able to converse with him. No offense to your brother, but there’s not any chance of words being exchanged there.”

Donna merely raised her eyebrow in response to that comment, but did as she was asked. She moved John Smith to be on Rose’s right, but as soon as she had left, Donna placed her brother on Rose’s left. Perhaps by some miracle he could be drawn into conversation if in the vicinity of two lively companions.

***

The moment she spotted John, Rose rushed over to his side. She’d only been waiting for an hour after all, but she knew she should have expected the Smiths to be fashionably late. They were débuting their only daughter after all. They had to make a splash. Not that they needed to. Clara was quite capable of making a memorable impression all on her own.

When she met John’s gaze, she saw something different in his green eyes. She swallowed the bile that threatened to escape when he said hello and looked her over.

He knew.

He’d been told the whole story. Somehow, he’d not known before. Now she saw the same look of pity and sorrow in his eyes that everyone else gave her.

When she took his hand, it felt clammy in hers. Or perhaps she was the one sweating.

Either way, she suddenly couldn’t wait for the night to be over.

How she missed her telescope.

Making small talk seemed pointless, so Rose kept her lips firmly pressed together, and John took the hint. He was a wonderful dancer, despite the rigidity of her stance, and he led her expertly.

His hand at the small of her back guided with simple presses, and the hand that clutched hers was not tight as a vise. She’d been with worse partners.

A giggle bubbled up and out her throat at the thought of how scandalous that thought had been.

John looked at her curiously, and a smile made its way across his mouth.

“Something amusing about how I dance Lady Rose?”

She squeezed his hand gently, and shook her head,

“No. I just thought of something funny. Forgive me.”

John gave an exaggerated sigh,

“Oh no. Now you must tell me. On my honor as a gentleman, I promise not to laugh, if you do not wish me to.”

Rose frowned slightly, but shrugged, leaning in close, she whispered,

“I just was thinking how well you dance. But then I thought, I haven’t got much to compare it to.”

Instead of looking amused, John looked mockingly horrified.

“Am I so bland in my form?”

Rose shook her head,

“No. I just don’t dance often enough to have any baseline to compare to.”

John clicked his tongue, and she saw a gleam in his eye,

“Well then. We must remedy that at once. Please, once this song ends, take a turn with at least three other men, and then come back to me.”

Rose giggled again,

“Shall I draw a graph and chart the differences?”

John seemed to enjoy how her mood had changed, and even she could bury societal annoyances for a bit of folly.

“No, I don’t think that will be necessary. I trust your judgment.”

The song ended just before Rose could think of a smart reply, and John stepped back from her, bowing deeply, and releasing her hand with a flourish.

“Good luck, Lady Tyler.”

Rose frowned,

“Thank you?”

“Good luck finding a better dancer than I.”

He winked at her and she was left standing on the edge of the floor.

She glanced around, and caught the eye of a handsome gentleman in a navy coat, and he made his way over to her in a blink of an eye.

“May I have this dance, my lady?”

Rose almost rolled her eyes at the over formality, but nodded and took his hand.

“Certainly, Lord-?”

The man grinned,

“Harkness. Lord Harkness.”

Rose couldn’t keep from grinning back,

“Lead on Lord Harkness.”

The man’s dark blue eyes seemed to rake over her, but he did not make lewd comments, despite his wandering eye.

“You dance marvelously my lady. Might I have the pleasure of your name?”

Rose bit her lip to keep from laughing,

“You may. However, I would have thought everyone here knew who I was.”

Lord Harkness shook his head,

“I’m afraid not. I’ve just come in from town, normally I live exclusively there, but Lady Noble insisted I attend her gathering. I owed her a favor, so I said yes.”

Rose smiled widely,

“You live in town? You must surely be a rake. A man who dances with a million girls at a ball, but then never allows the same girl to visit his home twice.”

Lord Harkness dropped her hand to clasp his on his chest,

“My lady! Such assumptions.”

The twinkle in his eyes suggested she was correct, even if his lips didn’t confirm it. He gave a mock cough when her gaze lingered on his mouth, and she felt herself blush.

“See anything you like?”

Rose shook her head,

“No my Lord. I was just lost in thought.”

He hummed, but didn’t look convinced,

“Your name?”

Rose felt his hand splay against her back, drawing her closer as the music picked up tempo,

“Lady Rose Tyler, heiress and future businesswoman.”

Lord Harkness nodded curtly,

“That’s a fantastic opening line my lady.”

“Just Rose is fine.”

He grinned,

“If that’s so, then I must ask you call me by my Christian name, as much as I enjoy being addressed as ‘your’ Lord.”

Rose somehow had the feeling he might prefer being called as such in an altogether different setting, but while she pondered this, and before Lord Harkness could finish, a figure had stopped them.

She focused on the man who’d tapped on Lord Harkness’ shoulder, and when she heard a deep voice ask,

“May I cut in?”

She placed the man.

It was Lord Noble. She’d not seen him anywhere near the dance floor, nor had she expected to. He was someone who kept to himself, and frequently stayed silent for the entire dining experience.

“Of course. Until we meet again Lady Rose.”

Lord Harkness released his hand from her waist and placed a lingering kiss on her knuckles, before dashing away with only a wink.

Lord Noble held out his hand, and Rose took it, still a bit in shock.

“Lord Noble, you honor me with a dance.”

Having taken his position, she shivered at the touch of his hand where the previous man’s had been. Heat seemed to radiate from his chest, and even his slow smile intimidated her.

“Lady Rose, I’m only saving you from a most gruesome fate. Lord Harkness is not known to leave reputations of young women in anything but tatters.”

Rose cocked a brow at him,

“Indeed? And I seemed in grave danger of letting him have his wicked way with me?”

The tips of Lord Noble’s rather large ears turned pink, and he coughed,

“Of course not my Lady. Forgive my words. I meant no offense.”

Rose shrugged,

“It’s okay. Personally I’d like a bit of a change in the way people look at me. I’m not just some poor orphan girl. I’m nearly in command of my father’s business now, and I want people to continue to use Vitex for their medicinal needs.”

Lord Noble looked impressed, and his hand tightened around hers, as he led her into a twirl,

“I have no doubt you will be able to change people’s opinions quite well on your own terms.”

Rose wasn’t sure if he was still trying to caution her against Lord Harkness, or trying to pay her a compliment. She smiled at him, suddenly not caring which was true. He was a wonderful dancer, and she was starting to have a good time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> told you we'd see our favorite Captain!  
> we've not heard his name yet though...hmm.


	7. Chapter 7

John stood back and watched Rose as she danced with different men, each more interesting, and seeming to engage in conversation with her more easily.

He glowered at the floor for a moment before looking back up at her, and his mouth fell open in shock.

Before the song had changed she’d been waltzing with a tall handsome man, with chiseled features and more than a scandalous repute, notably a trail of broken hearts as it was rumored, from both _men and women_ in his past. But now, Rose was in the hands of the hostess’s brother, Lord Noble.

He was a tall imposing man, with close shorn hair, nearly completely streaked with grey, fading from dark black to silver, and he was the last person on earth John expected to see take to the dance floor.

Lord Noble looked strangely about as uncomfortable as Rose had when John had first greeted her, but once Rose began to speak with him, the man’s face relaxed.

John felt a frisson of worry creep up his spine as he watched the two of them, but before he could think too much, the dinner bell rang, and interrupted the dancing.

Rose curtsied to Lord Noble, and left him to cross the room where John stood, still slightly dumbfounded.

“What’s the matter with you?”

Rose asked him, the impoliteness of her statement flying past John’s brain.

“Nothing, nothing. I just, was that, Donna’s brother?”

Rose shrugged,

“So? I wanted to make sure I sampled as far and wide as I could to best compare. First you, then the rake, then the reclusive gentleman. So the first set after we dine will be yours?”

John shook himself, and offered her his arm, leading her to the dining room.

“Yes of course. How was he?”

Rose sighed,

“I don’t know. What do you want me to tell you? We only exchanged pleasantries about the weather. The depth of our conversation didn’t rival the one I shared with you.”

John winced. He knew she was right. He hadn’t even asked her a single personal question. He’d only been living under the cloud of knowledge he had about her, without daring to see if any of the rumors were true, or just how true the correct ones were.

He helped Rose to her chair, and pushed it in the moment she’d settled, and he took the chair to her right. To his surprise, Lord Noble slipped in silently, and sat on Rose’s other side.

John looked over at her, and she met his questioning gaze with a lift of an eyebrow.

She then looked away and he saw her make contact with Lady Noble, who merely smiled calmly in reply.

The look on Rose’s face was just as calm, but he caught the twitch of her mouth. She was not happy about something. Annoyed even.

Her hands traced the silverware that was in front of her, and John looked at his own, desperate for any manner of distraction while the conversation around them rose to a high babble.

The soup was brought out, and wine poured before John managed to think of something to say.

“Did you have a pleasant ride to the manor?”

Rose paused midway through a sip of wine, and smiled around the rim of the glass,

“Yes, I did. How about yourself?”

John gulped down the soup he’d tasted, and grimaced,

“Not really.”

Rose’s interest was caught,

“How so?”

“My sister wouldn’t let go of my hand. See, I think she fractured a bone in my finger.”

He held out his hand, and wiggled the fingers in front of her, and she was clearly on the verge of laughing,

“Is that how you explain your terrible hold during our dance?”

John froze,

“What?”

Rose set her glass down gently,

“Well, if you’d like to go over technique, I must say that you did the worst in the hold department. Why, even Lord Noble had a gentler touch.”

John saw the flush appear on her cheeks, but he wondered if perhaps she even knew it was there. Unfortunately, speaking of the devil led Lord Noble to turn away from his left, whomever he’d been listening to, and focus on them.

“What was that?”

The deep northern burr of his voice, obtained while off fighting the war, filled Rose and John’s ears.

John waved a hand about, and nearly upended his wine glass,

“We were just saying…”  


Rose cleared her throat and licked her lips, and John felt a wave of envy wash over him as he caught the way Lord Noble’s sharp blue eyes watched the movement.

“You’re an excellent dancer. Please allow me to congratulate your teacher, if only in spirit.”

Lord Noble smiled, actually honest to god smiled, and John and Rose were taken aback.

“You must thank Donna then; she was the one who taught me all I know.”

“Really?”

The word came out as a squeak from Rose’s mouth, and both men only had eyes for her.

“Yes.”

“I see.” John intoned, and his mind whirled with ways to turn the conversation back to him, but Rose was still fixedly looking at Lord Noble.

She was surprised to admit it, mainly to herself, but Lord Noble was incredibly handsome when he did that.

“Why is it you’ve never spoken to me before?”

John was content to listen, for indeed, he was curious that anyone would be able to resist talking to Rose Tyler.

Lord Noble looked embarrassed,

“I’m not sure. I suppose I didn’t think I knew of anything interesting to speak of. Something which unquestionably deserved your attention. Now that I have it, I have not the slightest idea of how to keep it.”

Rose melted, and she smiled at him, surprising them both when she reached for his hand, placing her much smaller one atop his right, which clutched his fork in a tight grip.

“That’s perfectly fine. I’m glad you asked me to dance.”

John stabbed a broccoli spear with such force the plate creaked, and Rose turned to look at him,

“I’m sorry John. I don’t mean to ignore you. It’s just so strange, Lord Noble and I usually end up seated together, but we’ve never talked before. It’s all rather silly.”

“Indeed. Please, don’t let me keep you from your dinner Lady Tyler.”

Rose opened her mouth to protest the title, but Lord Noble had turned away already, and John tapped the back of her hand with his finger.

“Now. You were going to tell me what I did wrong, precisely, and how I can improve.”

Rose nodded, and took another large sip of wine, before she began to spout off the various things she’d noticed while dancing.

John listened intently, and tried to ignore the fact that Rose seemed to be unconsciously leaning towards her left.


	8. Chapter 8

Christopher Noble, was Heir to the Noble estate, and also thought to be a man full of bitterness, bottled anger and sorrow, according to the rumors. Someone past his prime, and a man who would need to be wed to a woman who would stay out of his way, but also take care of the estate and any children they had.

The truth was a little more complicated. Donna Noble, Christopher’s sister, had been overprotective of him ever since he returned from war, scarred in more ways than physically.

Certainly, he had gunshot wounds that had healed, and he’d had all his hair burnt off from the flames of a wayward mortar, but it grew back, and the skin healed.

He was hailed a hero, and yet shunned all visitors and any former friends. He nearly became a hermit. Donna knew the only way to socialize him, was to bring the parties to him.

She’d thrown several of the Season’s best dinner parties, and every time, she’d placed him beside Rose Tyler, the young, beautiful Vitex Heiress, and a sure conversation starter.

However, Donna’s perfect plan had failed every time. Through no fault of their own, neither of them spoke to one another. Rose always gave three lucky men a dance before dinner, vanished for the hour it took to wait to dine, then after dinner, bid a hasty retreat to home.

Finally, the evening had come where things had begun to change. Donna had watched from across the room as Rose made contact with Sir John Smith, danced happily with him, and then begun her usual pattern of choosing random men to dance with, before she would disappear.

However, this time, the final partner she picked was anything but random.

Christopher Noble had found himself shocked when the bright and beautiful Rose Tyler had paused before him, and none too heavily hinted at wanting a dance.

He’d spoken the words, and extended a hand, what he thought was in vain, but then she’d taken it, and led _him_ onto the floor, stepping into place in his arms, and letting the music carry them both away.

He’d been dumbfounded, astonished, and utterly gob smacked.

Donna had held back a shriek of glee as she’d watched. They’d danced until dinner bell rang, and parted at once, going separate ways, as John escorted Rose to the dining room and Christopher slunk inside alone.

But Donna had the ace up her sleeve, and Christopher had been surprised again to find his name beside the Lady Rose.

He had taken his seat silently, but eventually been drawn into conversation.

The evening had certainly not gone as he had planned, or expected.

He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

Uniformity was comfortable, especially to a retired soldier, yes, but also quite boring.

When Rose turned her attention from him back to the young Smith gentleman, he wanted to feel relieved, but he didn’t.

***

Instead of her usual rush to leave, Rose found herself sticking around and chatting long into the night. The dancing continued, but she did not return to the floor. She knew if she had, she’d have wanted to dance with John or Christopher, and repeat dances led to rumors and gossip she was not prepared to deal with.

Donna gave her a big hug before she left, and Rose took the time to whisper,

“I know what you did.”

But when she pulled back, Donna didn’t look guilty. Not even an ounce.

“Goodnight sunshine. We’ll see you next time.”

Donna had winked at her!

Rose was sure of it.

On the carriage ride back to the estate, she found herself reliving the dances from earlier that night. They’d been totally different than at any other fete. She’d had a good time, and she’d not been trying to pass the time, not at the end. She didn’t know why she’d lied to John about the conversation she’d had with Lord Noble. But it had not been exactly fit to repeat, so naturally the weather would have been the safest topic they might have discussed.

That night, when Martha came to her room and helped her undo the fancy hairstyle she’d insisted on making Rose wear, she didn’t hold back. She told her everything that had happened.

Martha laughed at the right places, and winced the same.

“It sounds like you made some good acquaintances Miss Rose.”

Rose shrugged,

“I think so. But I didn’t get a chance to speak to Clara. That’s the only thing I regret. Perhaps I should write her a letter? Invite her for tea?”

Martha hummed,

“What exactly do you need to speak to her about?”

Rose wrinkled her nose,

“Well, I was a bit rude to her that day, when Jack was here.”

Martha lifted a brow in reply,

“You? Rude? If anything, I bet she deserved it. Said something rude no doubt.”

Rose knew she probably should have chastised Martha, but she was right. They’d both said things they both, hopefully, regretted.

“Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

“But, you could always invite Jack over, and see who comes with him.”

Rose chewed on her bottom lip, and then giggled,

“Martha, you are so clever. Why didn’t I think of that? That way, I get to see Jack, and maybe John will come along, but I won’t have to invite him directly.”

Martha nodded,

“Yep. I am good.”

“You’ve done well. Now off you trot. I think I can undress myself.”

Martha rolled her eyes and shook her head,

“Whatever you say Miss. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

The sheets felt cool against Rose’s feet, still slightly sore from all the dancing, and the pillow was so soft under her head, it wasn’t long at all before she fell asleep.

She dreamt of meadows that smelled like apples, and she saw Christopher standing beside Jack, except he wasn’t a dog, somehow, he had morphed into a man with dimples and a roguish smile, the spitting image of Lord Harkness, and John was nowhere to be seen.

She ran towards them both, but something pulled them away, and when she stopped moving, she realized John was holding her, his eyes squeezed shut, and desperation painted on his face.

She frowned, and fought to be free, but to no avail.

She woke up breathing hard, as if she’d been running a marathon, and her sheets and blankets were falling off the bed, from where she’d kicked free of them.

Her heart was thundering in her chest, and she stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out what it could have meant.

The early light of dawn was drifting through the curtains which Martha must have drawn before she’d left, and Rose squeezed her eyes shut, turned over, and clung to a few more minutes of rest.


	9. Chapter 9

Grow up, go to university, take over the family business, and get married. Those were the only things John had to look forward to. Those were the things he needed to check off on the life list that his parents had drafted for him, the moment he was born.

But he wanted to do something, to go somewhere, and not be held back.

He wanted to travel the world, meet other people, and spend time learning what it really meant to live. As much as he loved his family, they were not him. His father might be content managing Smith stocks bonds and banking, but he couldn’t.

He stroked Jack’s ears and mumbled to himself as he watched the moon rise in the night sky. He’d not gotten a wink of sleep since coming back from the party. He was restless, and he was itching to go out and have an adventure.

“I’m so glad you found Rose. I thought I’d seen everything, until I met her. You really are my best friend Jack. Maybe my only one.”

He spoke aloud, and the black canine nudged him, nuzzling his nose into John palm, and he smiled.

“Would you come with me? Do you think you’d like it? Fresh air every day, a different sky, new ground beneath your paws?”

He licked his lips, and swallowed before continuing his line of thought.

“Do you think _she’d_ like it? Do you think _she’d_ want to come?”

Jack said nothing, as usual, but remained eager, and happy. That was enough for John. He’d have to see her again, and this time, he’d tell her what he knew, and ask her what he wanted to know. He didn’t care about the rumors, or the gossip. There was plenty of that for the leeches to live off of for eternity. What he wanted was to see Rose as happy as she’d been at dinner, every day. He also had something more precious than words could say to give to her. The question was, would she accept it? Would she see it for what it was? Or think it too bold a move?

He wanted to be the reason she laughed, and he lived to see her smile again.

“C’mon Jack, let’s watch the moon set.” He clicked his fingers, and the dog followed him outside, and sat beside him when he curled up on the hard wooden porch slats, knees drawn up to his chest, and wide eyes watching the silver circle in the sky.

***

The chirping of birds and a large wet tongue licking his face were the things John awoke to. He’d stayed out all night, and fallen asleep leaning against a porch rail.

Jack was currently nudging at his leg, and John grinned lazily at his friend,

“Hope I haven’t missed breakfast. Of course, that would mean you’d be hungry too.”

The thump of footsteps on the wooden boards startled him and he turned to see Clara glaring down at him,

“You did miss breakfast actually. What were you doing out here all night?”

John smiled at her, pretending not to notice how annoyed she looked. She was probably just upset he didn’t invite her along.

“We were stargazing. But then the moon began to set, so the stars went to sleep. I guess we did too.”

He gazed fondly at Jack, and rubbed his ears.

Clara tisked and rolled her eyes at him. Her nose wrinkled as she looked at Jack.

“There is no ‘we.’ Your pet merely followed you were you went. He’d follow you to the ends of the earth.”

She meant it to be an insult, but John beamed at her, and then at Jack.

  
“You know what? I think you’re right! You would follow me round the world wouldn’t you Jack?”

He looked at the dog intently, and he swore he saw a gleam in Jack’s eye, and the lolling of his tongue quicken.

“We’re going for a walk, if there’s no food to be had here, we shall endeavor to find it elsewhere.”

John rose to his feet and stretched, lifting his arms high above his head, and wincing at the snaps and pops his muscles made. He patted his shirt pocket, to ensure the precious cargo was still in place.

Clara scoffed,

“You plan to walk to town? It’s twenty miles.”

John sighed, and steeled himself. She seemed intent on being in a bad mood, but he would not let her dampen his morning.

He winked at her, before snapping his fingers at Jack, who quickly descended the porch steps with him,

“Did I say town?”

***

Rose gripped her cup of coffee so tightly the warmth seeped into her skin, and she hoped, into her very being.

She’d awoken after another horrible nightmare, and kicked the sheets and blankets away, thus leaving herself exposed to the cold night air.

Nearly two nights had passed since the party at the Noble estate, and she’d not slept well for either of them.

She’d begun to wonder if she was sick, if there was any sort of brain fever that could affect one’s subconscious. She became distracted from these thoughts by the sound of Martha calling to her.

She looked away from the vanity, from studying the growing dark crescents below her eyes, and put on a smile.

“Yes Martha? What is it?”

Martha didn’t even pretend to knock before she swept into Rose’s room,

“Miss Rose, you have a… visitor. Two of them actually. _They’re_ wondering if they could earn breakfast, or dinner, by helping you with some things.”

Rose felt curiosity overpower her somber mood and she quickly followed Martha out into the hallway,

“Who is it? And what a strange offer.”

Upon reaching the top of the staircase, Rose looked down to find the two guests waiting in the foyer. Martha gestured pointlessly to them, and Rose merely laughed.

“Oh John, what on earth?”

Jack barked happily at the sight of her, and John had to restrain him, lest he leap on her and upset her coffee cup.

“I’m sorry to impose on you Lady Tyler. But I found myself hungry and wandering across the lake to your estate. I hope I may be of some use to you, and you could find it in your heart to bequeath us a small meal, in exchange for any service we could provide.”

John knew very well he was causing a bit of a scene, but luckily there was no one to lay witness but Rose and her household servants.

He caught a couple exchanging amused looks, and he turned his gaze back to Rose, hoping his eyes were wide enough.

She sighed, and then smiled,

“Of course. I could always use an extra hand in the green house. Can Jack amuse himself in the conservatory while you work?”

John nodded eagerly,

“Oh yes. He’s very good at following commands. Just tell him to ‘stay’ and he won’t move an inch.”

Rose clapped her hands together,

“Wonderful. Come with me, and in no time I shall be glad to provide you with some sustenance.”

John looked at Jack and grinned,

“What did I tell you? She’s our savior all right.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter of part 1

The gardening work that Rose gave John was simple weeding, and watering. Things that were not truly meant to be every day chores, but the truth was she was far more curious to know why he’d run away from his manor and decided to visit her. Or pester her, as Martha put it.

“Tell me John, what do you plan to do once you’ve completed university?”

She watched him as he worked, and noted the way she could see his arm muscles flex as his shirtsleeves had been rolled up past his elbows.

He cut a fascinating figure.

He looked up from the hydrangea plant he’d been watering, and brushed a floppy brown curl out of his face,

“Oh you know. The business! Stocks bonds and banking. Smith’s do it best.”

He gave a wink that to her appeared more practiced than sincere, and the tone of his voice sounded pained.

“Really? Why is it that my family chose to use Gallifrey Consolidated instead?”

John licked his lips, before looking away from her, his green eyes downturned,

“I’ve no idea. But I’m sure your father knew what he was doing.”

There was no stabbing pain, no heartache from the mention of her father, but Rose gripped the edge of the stone bench tighter all the same.

“He did. I like to think so. He left me in charge.”

John’s eyebrow cocked upwards at that,

“Indeed? You don’t need to marry to acquire control of Vitex?”

Rose smiled sadly,

“No. I’m my own woman. The company will be mine in just a few weeks. On my birthday.”

John nodded.

“And that’s what you want? To run the company?”

Rose shrugged,

“I suppose so. What else can I do?”

John tossed aside the watering can with such haste that Rose jumped, but no water ever touched her.

“You could do anything you wanted to Lady Rose! You could trade shares, and sell off bits and bobs, train horses, or simply cash it in and run away from it all.”

The wistful longing in his voice told her that perhaps he wasn’t simply suggesting this as a whim. It was something he desired for himself just as badly as he seemed to want it for her.

“I wish I could. But I’ve got to keep Vitex going, at least for the servant’s sake. I can’t just dismiss them on a whim. Just because I suddenly want to pull up my roots. It sounds wonderful, it really does. But I don’t think it’s a good plan.”

She walked over to him, and traced the edge of the planter, just inches from where his hand rested.

“Lady Rose, what if you could? What if you could do whatever you wanted?”

He looked at her with those wide green eyes, and Rose felt her lips tremble,

“I don’t know. I’ve always wanted to see the stars. Up close, and in person. To see another world, and touch another ground, taste different air…that’s all I can dream about.”

She looked away from him, and her fingers rubbed against the dirt clumped inside the planter.

“You dream of other worlds? The planets in the sky? The stars?”

His voice held awe and wonder, and she wasn’t sure if it inspired her or worried her. She didn’t want to be accused of putting odd ideas and thoughts into a future businessman’s head. It had only room for facts and figures, columns and contracts.

“Sometimes…yes.”

He was now only a few inches from her, and if she’d looked to their feet, she knew his toes had to be touching her own.

She licked her lips, and wanted to touch his face, to stroke back the hair that fell over his forehead, and to smooth the faint wrinkles that formed between his eyebrows.

“Lady Rose…”

He began, but she stopped him with a finger to his lips, surprising herself and him just as much, judging by the way his eyebrows leapt for his hairline.

“Please, just call me Rose.”

“Of course.” His mouth moved, but it was hampered slightly by her touch.

She blushed hotly and pulled away,

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

But his hand was coming up fast, and encircling her wrist, and a smooth pull turned her back to face him, and she was falling against his chest.

She felt strength beneath his shirt that she’d never guessed he could possess. His heartbeat raced against her fingertips and they were both breathing heavily.

“Rose…”

She looked up at him, and merely nodded.

His eyes closed as he leaned down to meet her lips with his own. They felt so much different against hers than they had to her fingers.

Soft and warm, and the slight wetness of his tongue slipping out to trace the seam of her lips.

She’d have been scandalized if she hadn’t liked it so much. His arms moved to wrap around her, and one hand tangled in the messy braid that fell over her back, while the other cradled her cheek.

Her own hands gripped his shoulders for dear life, as if his kiss was the only thing keeping her from fainting dead away.

Maybe it was. Maybe she was only breathing because his lungs were letting her.

***

John was still unsure if perhaps he still sat slumped on the porch, under the darkened sky, so much was it like his dreams.

Rose Tyler in his arms, warm and gentle, and trembling. She was as nervous as he!

This may not have been his first kiss, after all, he’d been away at university, but it was certainly one he wouldn’t ever forget.

She tasted of the slight bitterness of coffee, but sweetened by the cane sugar and vanilla of scones. He breathed deeply through his nose, and felt her do the same. Neither was willing to let go first, but eventually, he pulled away, sucking in a full breath as noiselessly as possible.

He kept his hand on her cheek, and when his eyes opened, he was shocked to find tears falling onto his hand.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something I shouldn’t have?”

He was horror struck, had he taken advantage of her? Would she slap him? He wouldn’t protest if she did. She had no father to protect her honor.

But no. She shook her head, and simply exhaled a shaky breath. He was sure his own legs might give out before hers, so he swiftly guided them to the nearby bench, and let go of her face to take her hands in his.

“Please, tell me.”

Rose worried her bottom lip before speaking,

“It’s nothing. I just don’t know…if I should do this…with you. I’d hate to drag you into any trouble. I don’t want an engagement, or a husband. I don’t care what they say about me. I’ll die an old maid before I marry someone, just to be married.”

John laughed, and the sound betrayed his nerves,

“Oh Rose…I don’t care what anyone says. You may kiss a million men across the county. I am just grateful you do not think me a rake.”

He’d felt a spear of sadness when she spoke of doubting him.

But she was right.

He was no match for her. He might have a future fortune yes, but he was not ready to marry. He’d gone and kissed her in the green house, where any of her servants might have seen, and what could guarantee their silence?

Fingers brushed over his forehead, and his eyes locked with hers,

“So serious. Loyalty. My household will not sell the story of a stolen kiss to anyone. You need not worry.”

John’s eyes widened,

“How could you possibly know what I was thinking?”

Rose bit her lip and grinned,

“I do not know. Were you worried? Have I truly become a seer? Can I read your mind?”

She pretended to concentrate, and her fingers traced alongside his temples,

“You’re hungry, and you’d like to check on Jack…yes. That’s right.”

John shook his head, and his hand lifted to trap hers, before he brought it to his mouth to place a kiss on her knuckles,

“Not exactly. I was just thinking how clever and beautiful you are. More than a match for me. I think in a few years I could be worthy of you. But not today. I do thank you for the gift of your kiss.”

Rose tugged her hand out of his grasp,

“Don’t forget you worked for me. Fair’s fair. You must dine with me now.”

John nodded, and rose to his feet, extending a hand to her, which she gladly accepted.

“Let’s adjourn to dinner, and Jack can be our chaperone.”

Rose giggled, and nodded, letting him lead her out of the green house.

***

They’d had a wonderful evening together, talking and eating and laughing at nothing.

After dining, she’d asked if he’d like to look through her telescope, to understand why she loved stargazing so much.

To her delight, he’d accepted.

“Of course! A lady who’s interested in the wonders of nature is intriguing indeed.”

Rose laughed at him,

“Well, wonders of nature might be a bit of an exaggeration Sir Smith. I prefer to think of it as a way to escape. I picture myself going out there. Exploring the darkness and blackness of the sky, and finding a way to bring light to where there is none.”

John looked surprised,

“Like a star? Or a sun?”

Rose winked at him.

“What if they are one and the same?”

John lifted his eyebrows,

“You mean, the sun could simply be a larger star?”

Rose shrugged,

“Isn’t anything possible if one just believes?”

John leaned forward and peered into the eyepiece, all clever remarks slipping away.

“Maybe.”

Rose stood by, and let him look for nearly an hour.

When he’d finally come to his senses and his neck had begun to feel stiff, he remembered the gift for her. He stood up from the telescope and beamed at her,

“Rose, please allow me one indulgence.”

She’d looked at him with a smile, clearly curious,

“What did you have in mind?”

He whipped out an envelope which contained a mass of tissue paper, and inside a delicate silver charm bracelet lay.

She gasped at the sight of it, for the charms dangling from the chain were stars alternated with silver circles and crescents, the different phases of the moon.

“It’s beautiful John. I don’t think I can accept it. I’d feel strange.”

John looked at her, widened his eyes, and prayed.

It worked.

By all the power of the heavens, he finally used his sad eyes for good!

“If you insist…”

She held out her wrist, and he hastily fastened it on. It gleamed in the candlelight and looked lovely against her pale skin.

“It’s a perfect fit. Thank you John. With this to remind me, you will never be far from my thoughts.”

John grinned, and clapped his hands together,

“Wonderful. Lovely. You know, I think I need to get home and pack, and plan. For traveling that is. Once I finish school, I’ll get a boring job, save as long as I need to, then I’m leaving. I’m going where the wind takes me.”

Rose giggled and smiled at him,

“I believe you. Just remember not to grow up too fast.”

He’d blown her a kiss goodbye, and she’d stood on the porch watching him go. He knew it because even when he arrived home, he could still see her blonde hair shining in the moonlight.

He might have been too hasty. Over whelmed by the thought of exams on his return to university, he’d been impetuous; he’d voiced his fleeting thoughts to escape it all, and very nearly asked Lady Rose Tyler to come along with him. But now he knew better. He’d wait, and complete his work, finish his studies, and then see.

If she was not betrothed by the time he did all these, and was discontent with simply maintaining Vitex Industries, then perhaps.

But for now, he’d enjoyed her company, and planned to write to her as often as he could while he was away.

***

**END**


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